


House Call

by Mako_Octo



Series: Dream Job [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Dream Job, Drunk kiss, House Call, M/M, daniel birch and michael dennis, dominant/ submissive relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 20:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20441999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mako_Octo/pseuds/Mako_Octo
Summary: Weeks after drunk Michael embarrassed himself in front of Daniel and the rest of the executives at the dinner party, Daniel asks him to bring him something from the office to his house for him. Of course, Michael obliges.





	House Call

Just because Mr. B was on vacation, did not mean that I automatically was too. Especially if his vacation was taking place in the city, at his house. I was at the office, alone, typing up notes for an upcoming meeting that Mr. B would have shortly upon his return in a few days. His vacation was a week long. He expected me to stay here to answer his calls, and forward emails, essentially play answering machine. 

I glanced down at my watch. It was 18:45, the majority of the office building would be home by now. Groaning, I rubbed my fingers on my eyelids under my glasses. I gave myself the project of accumulating Mr. B’s notes into an easy-to-follow format. What I didn’t realize was the amount of notes that he had collected so far. How he managed to get to where he was now without me and my organization was astounding. 

In my chair, I reached my hands in the air above me and stretched, working out the pain in my shoulders from being at a computer all day. I stood up and shook my legs. I thought back to the dinner party we went to a couple weeks ago. Neither Mr. B nor I have mentioned it since he took me home that night. A fragmentary memory had forced me into a constant state of doubt. I needed a break from seeing Mr. B. I was tired of feeling unsure around him. Sighing, I slumped back into my swivel chair and reviewed my notes. I was just about to consider calling it a night, when my phone chimed.

“M- Are you still at the office? I left my tablet on my desk. Mind dropping it off? -B” I leaned across my desk to look into Mr. B’s part of the office. Sure enough, there was a small device lying on a stack of papers. Glancing at the time again, I groaned louder. 

“Yeah. Will be right there. -M” As I pressed send, I cursed into the air. Last thing I wanted to do right now was to go run an errand, and less than that was my desire to see him. I collected my thoughts quietly. 

“I’ll be in and out.” I assured myself, pushing up to my feet again. I grabbed Mr. B’s tablet and my bag. Placing the precious pad deep within it, I shrugged the bag on and began to head out to the train station.

I sat on the train quietly, with my bag pressed against my chest. It took about 20 minutes to get to Mr. B’s house from the office by train. I’d have to walk a bit after to actually get there, but honestly, it wasn’t like I had anyone special to go home to. My roommate, Barry and I worked at different companies, we had different friends, and we had never really hung out socially. I worked so often, I didn’t even see him on a regular basis.

“Hm.” I mumbled to myself. It had never occurred to me before how few people I had in my life. Barry was out. I didn’t have any siblings. My parents lived out of the country. I had one friend that would call me up on occasions to have drinks, hadn’t seen him in months. And Mr. B. I leaned back in my seat on the train, clutching my bag closer. “Am I really that alone?”

When the train paused at my stop, I hopped off, slipped my arms through my backpack, and gripped the straps tightly, a habit I had developed recently. I trudged up the sidewalk, staring at my feet as I walked. I knew where I was going. I had done enough house calls for Mr. B that my natural guiding system led me straight there. 

I felt pathetic. It was well into the evening, and I was out running errands for my boss. No one was waiting for me to get home. No one was hoping for me to ring them to hang out.  _ No one _ was there. I sighed, not that I could blame anyone. I didn’t have anything to offer. I didn’t have looks, or money, or status, or connections. Thinking back to the dinner party and the ostracized glares from the guests, my eyes filled with tears. I wasn’t even good company.

I stopped in front of a huge iron gate, the entrance to the Daniel Birch estate. Beyond the bars were gardens that were obviously taken care of by hired help. Sitting among them was a house far too large for any one person to live in. Roughly three floors, above the ground at least, was shared between Mr. B and his cat, Isabelle. I turned to a keypad built into the brick wall that held the gates up. After entering the eight digit code Mr. B had given me months ago, the gates slowly opened, allowing me to slip inside. I glanced up at the security camera that faced down at me. I waved shyly, sure that Mr. B was watching.

As I approached the extravagant domain, my mind was wandering again. “Who did Mr. B have, other than that cat?” I thought. I was in charge of his appointment book. The closest to a personal meeting he has ever had was a lunch date with his mother. It appeared as though my boss was just as alone as I was.

I had just reached the steps up to his front door, when Mr. B stepped out to greet me. His hair was twisted into a messy half bun. He had a blue shirt that clung to his form like it had been washed too many times, and… were those jeans? Seeing him in everyday clothing, I paused, staring. For a second, I was dumbfounded that he even owned clothing other than formal and semi formal.

“Hello Michael.” He called out, holding out his hand, waiting for me to take it. 

“Good evening, Mr. B.” I said, shaking his outstretched palm. He pulled me into the house, closing the front door behind me.

“I really appreciate this Michael. I hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle.” He lightly slapped his hand on my shoulder, thanking me. I just smiled and leaned down to place my bag on the floor. I thought about the empty life I had to return to after this, and sighed softly. Pulling out his tablet, I held it out to him.

Mr. B took it, but placed his hand on my shoulder again.

“Care for a drink before you head back out?” I glanced up to him, considering what happened last time I drank around him, and bit the inside of my lip. “Come on. Relax a little.” He gestured forward, but was otherwise stagnant. I looked down at my bag on the floor and sighed again, reviewing how many were expecting me home on time tonight. 

“Yes, please. Thank you sir.” I bowed slightly, giving in to his request. Mr. B smiled and began to lead me to his parlor. 

The room I was taken to held a couple large couches and chairs. A brick fireplace was definitely a focal point, I couldn’t help but take notice of it. Decorated across the mantle were trophies and awards. Some seemed to be from sports, others appeared more accomplished, the type that I wouldn’t dream of receiving. 

Mr. B directed me to the couch as he walked to a bar in the corner of the room. Glasses of all shapes and sizes were neatly stacked on it. Behind it was a wall of booze, the kind of wall you would see at an actual bar. I could only imagine how often he must have guests over to require that nonsensical amount of alcohol. Perhaps he wasn't as alone as I thought. I picked at loose skin on my finger. 

Mr. B walked to the couch carrying two glasses of brown liquid. Bourbon or whiskey maybe? He held out a glass to me, which I cautiously took. Collapsing onto the other side of the couch, Mr. B sighed.

“This is the most relaxing thing I’ve done this  _ vacation _ .” Drawing quotes in the air as he said it, Mr. B then took a sip from his glass. I watched his expression as he drank. When I saw that he was enjoying the drink, I tipped the glass to my lips. Fire bit my tongue and burned as it ran down my throat. I coughed unexpectedly. Mr. B chuckled.

“Smooth isn’t it?” He patted my back a couple times. “If this is too strong, I have other options.” I glanced at his wall of booze and back to him.

“No kidding.” I chuckled softly, only smiling when he did. “No thank you. I’m fine with this.” I lied, already feeling like a burden being here. He raised an eyebrow, pretty sure he knew I was full of shit, so I braced another sip, proving him wrong. A few awkward moments passed, the sound of sipping was the only thing to break the tension. I felt like shouldn’t be there. 

“It’s the dinner party all over again.” I mumbled under my breath, my lightweight tolerance taking a toll. Mr. B looked over at me. Part of me wanted to excuse myself, the other part, the stronger one holding the liquor, stopped caring. 

“The dinner party?” He asked, turning his entire body so he was facing me. I closed my eyes and sighed, ready to be humiliated by what I was about to say.

“I’m the pity party.” When he tilted his head, I moved my torso to face his as well. “I’m the one that you invite inside because you feel bad. It’s why you brought me to that dinner party. Why you told everyone I was your, what was it? Apprentice.” I finished off my glass, trying to make myself feel tougher than I was. Mr. B continued to stare. Stunned I figured it out? Contemplating firing me? 

“That’s why you think I brought you? Because I pity you?” He leaned forward onto his knees, close enough for me to catch the spicy scent of his cologne. It made me want to hate him all the more.

“Why wouldn’t you? You have EVERYTHING!” I gestured my hands outward, placing my glass on the table as I did. “Wha-what do I have? Nothing…” My voice soften, feeling my masculinity falling as I spoke of my faults. I lifted my eyes to Mr. B, expecting him to be smiling, but I was wrong. 

He sat there, his head hung between his shoulders. His wrists were sloped over his knees; he was like a statue. Slowly pieces of his long hair fell in front of his face. 

“No.” He spoke deeply and sternly, “I don’t have  _ everything _ .” He looked back up to me, his eyes piercing mine. “I know I’m not always the nicest man. But I have  _ never  _ pitied you.” I stared at him, unsure of how to respond.

“Michael,” he spoke again, “I brought you to that dinner party because I wanted you to get a chance to meet the people you need to suck up to in order to get higher up in this company.” His voice was getting softer, I couldn’t help but lean in. “I invited you in because I care about you.” I stared at his lips as he said those words. Could it be? Did the man I had secretly always loved, love me as well?

Then he smiled. It was his smile. I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to touch him, I needed to taste him. I leaned forward and attached my lips to his. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close, nearly falling off the couch as I tried to get near him. 

At first, his lips were flat, unreceiving. Then, for a moment, I felt him press against me. I slowly opened my eyes, I wanted to see him. His eyes were already watching me. That’s when it hit me. 

He wasn’t confessing to love! Caring for someone wasn’t an invitation for an unwelcome kiss. What was I doing? I pushed away from Mr. B roughly, shocked by my indecent action. He only stared at me. Tears began to fill my eyes. What had I done? 

“I-I’m sorry. I’m leaving now.” I bowed quickly, and rushed to the front door. Mr. B called my name, but I jogged to his door. I slid out the front hastily. My sight was so foggy from my tears. I knew I could never make up for such a moronic act. The moment my feet touched the ground outside I began to run. Sprinting as fast as I could away from my mistake. The wind rushing past my ears muffled the sound of Mr. B calling after me. His sweet voice only made my disgrace more bitter.

I didn’t stop running until I was on the train. I sat in a back corner of the train and pulled my knees to my chest. I heaved and puffed, trying to catch my breath and calm my heart. It wasn’t the exercise that was making it beat so fast. I lowered my forehead to my knees. 

“Why? Why did I kiss him?” I thought to myself. “I’m so stupid! Why would I go ahead and ruin a good thing?” I stayed like that the entire way home, trying to come to grips with the reality that I may lose my job.

When I got home, the apartment was dark. Everyone was either asleep or out, I didn’t care which. I went straight to bed, collapsing onto my covers. I curled into a fetal position and continued to cry over the loss of my future due to my inability to to control my emotions. 

My phone began to buzz. I sat up and checked, it was him. I pressed end, and turned off my phone.“I left my backpack.” I thought. Groaning, I pulled a blanket over me. I was going to call in a temp to cover the desk tomorrow, I had decided. There wouldn’t be a way for me to go into work. Mr. B might call me there. My tears soaked into my pillow. There was a chance that the temp would become my replacement, I considered before falling into a fitful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I started to put the exact dates of when I wrote each work on my own, but it was too tedious. Assume everything was written beforehand prior to posting them here. :)


End file.
